I risked a glance at Michaels. His eyes were on the blank screen on the wall. There was no doubt he was listening, but it was clear he needed to get himself together.
“Okay,” Lucas said, a sardonic smile appearing on his lips, “his car’s parked near the docks.” A moment later, footage appeared on the screen.
“What other angles do you have?” I asked.
Fast fingers moved over the screen before multiple angles appeared in their own split boxes. There had to be something here. This was well out his way. What had taken him there? Alertness drummed through me. “How far away were you from the docks, Michaels?”
His head whipped in my direction. “Maybe twelve kilometres.”
“And why there?” I pushed.
“He’d taken an earlier call and agreed to pick up something from there.” Michaels’s eyes fixed firmly on mine. “Jenson was closer to the collection point and got there before me. The fucker didn’t wait.” A clenched fist smashed against the table. “Always so fucking gung-ho.” He shook his head, his distress thick in the air.
My pain recognised his, but I had to shut that shit down fast. “Do we know what the collection was?”
“Vesper,” he answered.
Confusion swept through me. “He’s collecting the drugs?” I shook my head. “This doesn’t make sense. We thought his involvement was due to his contacts, right? Hooking Lentwood up, and what, passing on intel of our and others’ investigations?”
Lucas spoke up. “The call came through about midday. We suspect Lentwood by now knows that you have your niece and the fodder he sent are all out of the picture.”
“They’re relocating.” A large container ship caught my attention. “Can you zoom in on screen six?”
The live footage of the container and its surrounds filled the screen. There was plenty of activity—loader and forklifts zipping in and out as a large crane positioned huge containers onboard. “What’s that on the right-hand side of the ship?”
Lucas pressed a few keys to show us as Thatch returned to the table, his phone in his hand and his muscles taut.
“Helicopter pad,” I said, then focussed on Thatch, who clearly had something to report.
“Jamison’s said that Blackheath never returned. They’ve since got a lead that he’s on a flight to Sydney. He and his team are heading here now.”
I fisted my hands. “What time is the ETA?”
Lucas spoke up as he typed something on his screen. “Their plane has just departed, while Blackheath should be arriving in Sydney within ten minutes or so. It’s a privately chartered flight.”
Looking over at Thatch, I worked hard to bite my tongue and let him take point. It surprisingly wasn’t as difficult as I expected it to be. Though, my throbbing head that still hadn’t quite settled perhaps had something to do with that.
“Lucas,” Thatch said, “I’m going to need you on the ground with us. That okay?”
He was nodding before Thatch had finished talking. “Sure thing.”
Turning his attention to Kent, Thatch instructed, “Are you good to direct us from here?”
“Abso-freakin’-lutely,” Kent answered. “Lucas has shown me where all of the good tech is.” She grinned salaciously.
I scrunched my nose. “Your hard-on over tech is mildly disturbing.”
She barely cut her eyes to me, already elbow-deep in whatever she was doing. Though a quick flip of her middle finger made me grin.
“Michaels.” Thatch’s voice remained balanced, clear, and devoid of inflection. Colour me impressed. I had no idea how he managed it. Just looking at Michaels made me both pissed off and sad. “You’re with me while Lucas is with Callen. Stick close,” he ordered.
His pairings made sense. Lucas and I had worked together for years. While he’d spent a lot of time in my ear, we’d shared hours’ worth of mission time together on the ground too.
“We’ll get Jamison to meet us at the docks.”
I waited for the pang of jealousy and smiled smugly when it didn’t hit. My somewhat crazed, self-impressed smile had Thatch pausing briefly, I imagined wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I shrugged, indicating he should continue. It was amazing what good old sex could achieve—the destruction of jealousy apparently high on the list with a happy penis.
“We won’t be moving until we have eyes on Lentwood. He’s our priority.” Thatch glanced around our team.
“What about Brent?” Michaels croaked.
I added, “And Blackheath?”
“They’re targets too, but we need to cut this operation off at the head. The rest will soon fall. If we can take them on at the same time, we go for it and can celebrate with a Bundy rum or five by tomorrow. If not, we’ll catch up with them.” Confidence anchored Thatch’s words.
“And reading Durrant in?” Kent asked. “This will all need to be handled tonight, with Brent’s involvement,” she challenged.
“She’s right,” I added. “I understand why you’re saying Lentwood needs to be the main target, but if you don’t want Durrant involved, it’s got to happen today. Tonight.” I tapped my fingers on the table. “Lucas, have you heard any chatter about Brent?” To be honest, we were all surprised as hell Durrant didn’t already know and hadn’t charged in to take over the investigation. Or at least get involved, since she would have likely tasked Thatch’s team with the mission.
“Brent covered his tracks and applied for leave.” Head bent over his tablet, Lucas read a moment before saying, “He put emergency cover in six hours ago, on the grounds of his sister falling ill.”
“Does he even have a sister?” Kent asked before I could voice the same question.
“Give me a second.” Lucas’s fingers flew across the keyboard. As he did so, I cast a glance at Thatch. He looked weary despite the tension keeping his muscles taut. In his focussed state, he looked every bit the leader, and I was man enough to admit how incredibly sexy he was with determination etched across his face.
“What time are you expecting Jamison?” I asked. While the jealousy remained held at bay, I
